Bisexual

A burst pipe forced the men to sleep together. Toni on one side, me on the other, and between us, Sergio... who wasn’t sleeping quite as soundly as we thought.

I thought of him as just a mate and nothing more. Until that dawn he grabbed me by the neck outside the club entrance and everything I thought I knew about myself fell apart.

When I opened my Epiphany gift and saw a voucher for a massage with Pilar, I laughed. I had no idea my wife had spent months planning exactly what would happen.

I’m finally writing it down: what turns me on is being the anonymous little faggot of a married man, kneeling without knowing his name and him not knowing mine either. That’s it. Over and over.

When everyone fell asleep, Diego stayed next to me in bed. He said he wasn’t sure whether he liked men. What happened next was planned by neither of us.

Twenty years married, and each hid a secret of their own: him in strangers’ bathrooms, me not yet knowing what the yoga woman was about to awaken in me.

Forty minutes earlier my hands were shaking. Now I’m holding the harness, and for the first time in eighteen years, I’m the one deciding what happens in this room.

Rubén filled the coffee maker while, on the other side of the window, our women stopped pretending. Neither of us looked away, and then his hand found mine.

That afternoon, while Sofía tried on lingerie in front of the mirror, my husband and I discovered we had gone months without looking at each other like that.

I opened my eyes in the middle of the pleasure and saw her leaning against the doorframe, watching us. She said nothing. She just slid a hand inside her shorts.

I was nineteen, with a girlfriend who was crazy about another man. It took me a year to understand that her betrayal, far from hurting me, was what turned me on most.

That night I locked the door, turned off my phone, and, for the first time, let myself discover what it felt like to stop resisting.

I thought she’d laugh at me, that she’d say I was crazy. But when I led her by the wrist to the half-open door, my sister could no longer look away.

Marina stretched her hand toward him from the sofa, palm open, an invitation that said nothing and everything. Tomás set down the glass and rose from the armchair.

Bruno let me kneel in front of him, but he never kissed me: he said that wasn’t something you did with just anyone. I just wanted to stop being just anyone to somebody.

We’d spent months fucking under the rule that he was straight. That night, with my plan on hold, he looked at me in silence and I knew something was about to break.

I rolled down the window and spoke to her with my back still turned. When she turned, I knew that freckled blonde was going to change my whole weekend.

The first time I went out on the street dressed as a woman, my legs were shaking. Ten years later, nothing feels better than being watched.

I arrived thinking we’d drink beer and celebrate his promotion. Carla opened the door in a tiny skirt and a sheer blouse. Damián still hadn’t arrived.

Behind the dune, I thought no one could see us. I had two fingers inside Sofía when the brunette with braces turned, smiled at me, and began walking toward us.